


Coloring Books and Giving My Husband Dirty Looks

by JS3639



Series: Me, You, and Peter, too [6]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Brotherly Love, Coloring, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Kid Fic, M/M, Peter is NOT Spider Man, Superfamily, Superfamily (Marvel), Superhusbands, Superhusbands (Marvel), Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-28
Updated: 2019-05-28
Packaged: 2020-03-26 11:21:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,945
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19004752
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JS3639/pseuds/JS3639
Summary: Peter and Harley color, Steve does something that Tony isn't fond of,  and there's a bit of arguing.---PLEASE READ TAGS





	Coloring Books and Giving My Husband Dirty Looks

**Author's Note:**

> QUICK A/Ns:
> 
> \- Freak Show is an actual wine  
> \- I am picturing the house they live in like the one in Super Cooper Sunday (YouTube it if you don't know what that is)  
>    
>  **Side note:**
> 
> **I don't really know where I was going with this but I hope you enjoy it!**
> 
>    
>  **PLEASE FEEL FREE TO LEAVE SUGGESTIONS FOR FUTURE FICS DOWN IN THE COMMENTS OR ON MY TUMBLR**
> 
>  
> 
>  HANG OUT WITH ME AND SEND ME PROMPTS:: [Tumblr](https://js3639.tumblr.com/) | [Instagram](https://www.instagram.com/js3639_/) | [Twitter](https://twitter.com/js3639_)
> 
>  
> 
> Email me: **thejs3639@gmail.com**

 

 “Bad idea,” Tony warned as Steve got up to leave to pee. He, Harley, Tony, and Peter were on the floor of the living room, the square U shaped couch surrounding them.

 

Peter, Harley, and Steve were drawing, Peter’s “drawings” was more just scribbles and lines because he was four and didn’t know how to properly draw yet. Tony was reading up on something NASA was doing in the near future. He had tried to explain it to Steve but it was no use; it was like he was speaking a foreign language to the man. Harley was drawing a family portrait, which was impressively detailed for a six-year-old.

 

Steve stood up and walked towards the bathroom, but the second he was out of eyesight from Peter, Peter started sobbing. “Oh man,” Tony muttered to himself. He got up and jogged after his younger son.

 

Peter got up and ran as fast as his legs could go, tears streaming down his face. Deafening sobs emitted from him as he banged on the bathroom door. Tony scooped the toddler up, rocking him to and fro gently.

 

Peter was very clingy with Steve. Why he was, was beyond both of them. It wasn’t like Steve was giving one hundred percent of his attention to Peter. More like sixty percent, in Tony’s opinion.

 

Tony heard the toilet flush and the sink water turn on, then off. The bathroom door opened and Peter made grabby hands toward the blond. Tony passed Peter to the taller man who murmured soft sweet things into his hair.

 

“It’s okay, Bubba, Papa’s here, okay?” He bounced the boy, peppering him with kisses, hearing his sobs slow down to quiet cries to hiccups to silence. Unlike Peter, Harley had more of an obsession with Tony.

 

The dirty-blond had stayed put on the floor, too focused on his drawing. Crayon wrappers and colored wax flakes littered the ground around him. His brother and dads made their way back to the floor.

 

After Peter decided he was bored with drawing, he stood up and threw a handful of crayons at his brother. Harley retaliated, throwing crayons back then the younger boy.

 

Steve picked up Peter while Tony picked up Harley and dragged them off to opposite ends of the house. The boys were clearly getting tired and cranky, but they would not let their dads know that. But the signs were obvious; throwing crayons, crying when Steve left for the bathroom and scribbling on each other's drawings.

 

Out of the corner of his eye and wrangling a struggling Harley, Tony says it: a drawing of a house by Harley but it was covered on bold, thick magenta lines from Peter. Harley had made a snide comment about Peter’s ability to draw which of course set Peter off.

 

* * *

 

The elevator dinged, revealing Clint and Bucky. In Bucky’s metal arm, was a bottle of wine. Holding it by the neck of the bottle, he handed it to Steve.

 

“Man, that’s a wine named after our family if I ever saw it, huh Tony?” Tony smirked, putting a hand on the taller man’s lower back and his other hand his own stomach.

 

“‘Freak Show?’” Tony grinned, walking over to the kitchen and grabbing a bottle opener and four stemless wine glasses. Pulling hard on it with the bottle opener, the cork ‘popped’ out. Steve poured the liquid into the glasses, handing each one out, then taking his own.

 

Their five-year-old daughter, Maddie, came out of the elevator behind her dads, wearing skinny jeans and a hoodie. There was a crash, an “ow!” and then footsteps. Peter came flying downstairs crying. He latched himself onto Steve’s leg who bent down and scooped the boy up.

 

Tony ran upstairs to see what fell down. He came back down with Harley buried in his chest. Tony brushed a lock of his son’s hair behind his ear. “They were just roughhousing upstairs and took a tumble. Isn’t that right, Harles?” the brunette cooed. He felt his son nod against his chest.

 

“It’s okay, Bubba, you’re okay. Look, it’s Uncle Bucky and Uncle Clint!” Steve said, distracting the toddler. Peter gave a half-assed wave which was more of a floppy hand but despite what it was, he received two waves back.

 

Maddie quite literally dragged Clint off to go color with Peter and Harley. She had brought a box of Crayola markers and a Disney coloring book. Harley was coloring in a Spider-Man and Peter was coloring in a Paw Patrol puppy.

 

Harley looked up at her, gave her a quick smile and then continued (inaccurately) coloring in Spider-Man. Despite having Steve’s talent for art, Harley colored like a toddler; the colors were streaky and patchy and the colors jumped out of the lines.

 

“It’s supp’sed  t’ be red n’ blue!” Peter whined, standing up and pointing an accused finger at his brother. “You’re making him yewwow, pink n’ gween!”

“It’s _my_ coloring page! I get to color Spider-Man how _I_ want to! You’re not the boss of me! Besides, your dog is pink! You’ve never even seen a pink dog!”

 

“It’s part of the show! She’s pink in the show!” Peter screeched. He got up, threw his crayons at Harley and ran away, crying. “I like it, Harley,” Maddie said, tucking her hair behind her ear. She smiled at him and then went back to coloring Simba and Nala.

 

“Whatcha workin’ on here, Stevie? A new art piece or something fashion-y?” Bucky asked, flipping through a college-ruled notebook full of atomically accurate drawings of people with little blurbs about what they were wearing and which celebrities body parts most resembled them with swatches of colors littering the edges.

 

“It’s a little of both. I’m trying to help Tony design something for Stark Industries. Well, more like Pepper because she’s now the CEO as of last week but either way: I’m helping Stark Industries.”

 

“With what - designing yoga pants for the employees?”

 

“Nanotech stuff. Tones wanted it to be like regular-looking clothing. You know, for his recreational time. It’s so he and his security can have regular-looking clothes that can turn into Iron Man suits. Unfortunately, Stark Industries had a break-in last month. Happy and his team were there but the intruder had advanced weapons so they couldn’t really do anything about it. But now,” he pointed to the notebook. “We have nanotech clothes so we can match the intruder’s weaponry and/ or beat them.”

 

“Hey, guys, soup is on!” Tony called out, dishing out the steak that Steve had grilled. The kids got mac and cheese, chicken nuggets, peas, and corn. They decided to eat outside, their pants rolled up so they could dip their feet in the pool.

 

The night was capped off by Maddie falling sound asleep on the white leather couch. Clint and Bucky quietly crept out of the house, Maddie in Clint’s arms, a wet spot forming on his shirt due to his daughter’s open mouth.

 

* * *

 

 

“Papa!” Steve looked up from his notebook. He looked down at his drawing of Peter, deciding whether or not it was proportionate and then put the book down on the kitchen counter.

 

“Papa!” the voice was louder and he heard the sound of feet running toward him. Steve continued to draw until he felt Harley wedge himself in between himself and the kitchen counter, sitting on Steve’s lap.

 

“Papa, I tell Daddy that I’m not sleepy. I don’ wanna go to bed. I wanna watch TV. Can I, Papa?”

 

Steve put his pencil down and stroked Peter’s hair, taking in the scent of the shampoo they used. “I can try to convince Daddy to let you stay up for _one_ episode. But you have to promise that you will go to bed right after it ends, no questions asked. Got it?”

 

Harley shook his head and clambered down from Steve’s lap, running back upstairs. He burst into their bedroom and ran into the bathroom, running into Tony who was brushing his teeth. “Daddy!” he shouted as if Tony was standing on the opposite side of the house. Tony closed his mouth around his toothbrush so it was hanging from his lips and clamped a hand on Harley’s mouth.

 

“Calm down, Mr. Loud. You should be going to bed Harles.”

 

“But Dad-dee! Papa said I can stay up an’ watch an episode!”

 

“You’re _having_ an episode,” Tony muttered, turning to the sink and rinsing his mouth. He wiped his face off with the towel that was hung over his shoulder. “But can I, Daddy? Please? I’ve been good!” Harley whined. Tony sighed, ignoring his son.

 

He went to the top of the stairs and called down to his husband. “Stevie? You coming to bed?” The brunette saw the light turn off, turning the downstairs pitch black. Steve emerged from the blackness into the dim light upstairs.  
  
“Hey,” he breathed, kissing Tony on the lips. Their moment was interrupted by Harley wedging himself in between the couple. “Papa, tell Daddy that you said that I can stay up an’ watch my show!”  
  
Tony gave Steve a dirty look. “Harles, it’s nine forty-five. It’s already past your bedtime by fifteen minutes. Aren’t you the least bit tired?” Harley shook his head. “No,” he declared. “I’m gon’ stay up for the next hundred years!”

 

“Me too, Daddy” Tony whipped around to spot Peter standing in his bedroom doorway, his thumb in his mouth. “I wan’ watch Paw Patrol!” he shouted, as he and Harley raced toward the master bedroom. The Stark-Rogers house rules were simple:

 

  * For safety reasons, no locking the bathroom door, only closing it.
  * Hands to yourself, no matter what your brother did to you. If there’s an issue, bring it up with Papa or Daddy.
  * Whoever gets the remote first, gets to pick the show. If ther’s _any_ arguing then no TV at all.



 

Peter, much to Harley’s disappointment, got to the remote first. He turned the TV on and brought up Paw Patrol. “I don’t wanna watch this show! It’s for babies!” Harley tried to swipe the remote from his brother.

 

Peter dodged his brother’s grabby hands and sat on the remote. He knew this wouldn’t stop Harley but it would cause both Steve and Tony to scold him or breaking rule numbers three and two.

 

Tony gave Steve a dirty look. “The boys need to go to sleep, Steve! They can’t stay up until ten thirty watching Paw Patrol! They need to have a healthy sleep schedule!”

  
“Right, like you know _all_ about a ‘healthy’ sleep schedule, Tony!” Steve snapped. “Do you have any, _any_ idea at all as to how many nights the boys and I have been waiting for you to come up from the lab and say goodnight?”

 

No answer.

 

“Countless times, Tony! The boys and I are worried about you.” His voice softened. Tony leaned in toward Steve’s chest, putting his forehead in between his pecs. Steve wrapped his arms around Tony’s necks, pulling him tighter into the embrace.

 

What felt like five hours but was only ten minutes, the pair made their way into their bedroom to find the TV showing a Play-Doh commercial and two knocked out kids. Steve picked both boys up, placing each one on his hip, then carried them into their bedroom. He put each one in his bed, then kissed both their temples, letting Tony do the same thing to them. He turned their light off and closed the door slightly so the dim hall light partially flooded their dark room.

 

Tony and Steve crawled into their own bed, kissed each other, turned the lights off and within minutes, fell sound asleep.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Come hang out with me on [Tumblr](https://js3639.tumblr.com/) | [Instagram](https://www.instagram.com/js3639_/) | [Twitter](https://twitter.com/js3639_) | [YouTube](https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCHbtBh7XPlkKl_xisH-ic4g) \- to also send me prompts | Email me: thejs3639@gmail.com


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